Well, we entered the house - and that's when we saw torn wrapping paper and unwrapped gifts everywhere. My husband, who normally wouldn't say boo to a goose, was furious and asked his mother why they hadn't waited for us. She said airily "Oh, the kids got so excited; they couldn't wait."

I would have turned around and walked straight back out again. Home and enjoy the day the way you wanted, then and forever more.

Christmas/Thanksgiving/Birthday/etc does not HAVE to involve EVERY member of your family. It should be about what makes YOU and those you actually care about happy.

Dh will sometimes say "I'm thirsty" or "A drink would be really nice right now." I just look at him and say "Yeah, wouldn't it?" That's when he sticks his tongue out at me, calls me ornery and asks "Will you please get me something to drink?"

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Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. Be cheerful, strive to be happy. -Desiderata

BabyMama, no wonder you said in the other thread that you didn't want to see your parents fro Christmas.

Sigh. My personal affront is now making me remember every bad event over my lifetime. There was also the time when she wanted this specific cake made for Christmas, and when it appeared she wasn't going to make it, I did it...and she yelled at me because she had an idea of wanting to frost the cake RIGHT before serving it (whipped cream based) and because I'd frosted the cake early I "ruined Christmas." Yeah...

They usually are okay people. But they really have been getting worse. I dread to think of what my mom will be like when she's elderly.

My grandmother was very PA, and I was always the only one who could deal with her. I tend to naturally be very obtuse when it comes to 'hinting' anyway, and when I became a teenager I was smart enough to recognise what was going on. I remember one vacation she, my mother and I took together, where she made my mother drive for two hours to get to the town (Portsmouth, a famous and beautiful historical seaside town). We had a drink and a sandwich in a pub, then she expected us to get back in the car and drive back to the hotel. We wanted to look round the famous sights. So she pulled the whole, "well FINE then GO, I'll just sit in the car, don't worry about me I'll be fine just sitting in the car in the multi-story car park all day!" So I said, "That's great, we'll leave the radio on, see ya!" Needless to says she soon changed her mind. My mother was overjoyed that I didn't give in to her martyr act, but the big downside is that, because that's what my mother is used to, she never took any non-martyr complaint very seriously. Like if I was ill, I'd never get taken to the doctor because she'd assume if I was really sick I'd be kicking up a huge fuss, and it took her years to learn that I don't do that. So these things can be dangerous psychologically.

My parents have also started hinting more strongly about grandchildren. "I can't wait to show your toys to the grandchildren" or "I can't wait to watch these home movies with grandchildren" or "You know, if you have kids we'll have to move to a bigger house". I've started saying "Well, I'd better start fornicating this instant!" or I say "Hm, if I have kids with Current Interest and he's 40 right now, he'll be 58 when they graduate high school..." which makes them fall silent, as they quickly remember that I am not married and they do not want me to marry this man and have children with him.

Ah, yes - one of the joys of having a child when you're 40 (both me and my husband) is that it's a very easy number to work with "when the kid is X, you'll be Y" and do the math in your head. The neighborhood stoner, whose wife was expecting at the same time we were, said to my husband, "Dude, what if you have a boy? When he's 18, you'll be, like, 58 - how will you play pickup basketball with him?" As I said, this guy has fried many brain cells, but that math even he could manage on the spot.

BTW, we had a girl, and as she's always been in the 5th percentile in height for her age, I'm not sure that basketball will be her sport, anyway.

Who are all these women asking 'Was I a bad mother?' That would never occur to my mom. She wasn't a bad mother, but I was her first, so somewhat experimental. Now, HER mother - she WAS a bad mother. And in complete denial about it.

Validation. They want you to say, "You were the best!"

OTOH, my mom would never think to ask this question, and I have spontaneously told her she was a good mom. She liked hearing it- possibly even more because it wasn't a demand.

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If wisdom’s ways you wisely seek,Five things observe with care,To whom you speak,Of whom you speak,And how, and when, and where.Caroline Lake Ingalls

My kids tell me I'm the best mom they ever had, which makes me laugh when I'm the only mother they've ever had. I know what they mean but it's still funny.

I admit to being a bit PA myself at times. Like when one of them will ask me a question, such as "What gifts did the wise men bring to the manger?" And as soon as I open my mouth they start a whole new conversation with each other. On more than one occasion I've said "Oh don't bother waiting for the answer, I'm just talking to myself, here."

Once the middle pirate said "Well at least you're used to it!" I couldn't help it, I laughed.

Logged

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. Be cheerful, strive to be happy. -Desiderata

BabyMama, no wonder you said in the other thread that you didn't want to see your parents fro Christmas.

Sigh. My personal affront is now making me remember every bad event over my lifetime. There was also the time when she wanted this specific cake made for Christmas, and when it appeared she wasn't going to make it, I did it...and she yelled at me because she had an idea of wanting to frost the cake RIGHT before serving it (whipped cream based) and because I'd frosted the cake early I "ruined Christmas." Yeah...

They usually are okay people. But they really have been getting worse. I dread to think of what my mom will be like when she's elderly.

Have you ever read the Great Santini? Or, well, any book Conroy wrote with parents in it. Something about the way you describe your parents reminds me of Conroy and his parents. He would describe some really messed up story from his childhood. Not CPS messed up, but shake-your-head messed up. Then he'd say, "But, really, they were really OK."

BabyMama, no wonder you said in the other thread that you didn't want to see your parents fro Christmas.

Sigh. My personal affront is now making me remember every bad event over my lifetime. There was also the time when she wanted this specific cake made for Christmas, and when it appeared she wasn't going to make it, I did it...and she yelled at me because she had an idea of wanting to frost the cake RIGHT before serving it (whipped cream based) and because I'd frosted the cake early I "ruined Christmas." Yeah...

They usually are okay people. But they really have been getting worse. I dread to think of what my mom will be like when she's elderly.

Have you ever read the Great Santini? Or, well, any book Conroy wrote with parents in it. Something about the way you describe your parents reminds me of Conroy and his parents. He would describe some really messed up story from his childhood. Not CPS messed up, but shake-your-head messed up. Then he'd say, "But, really, they were really OK."

I read Jenny Lawson aka the Bloggess' memoir, "Let's Pretend This Never Happened," (a telling title if there ever was one.) She describes her dad as this total nutball who was so determined NOT to be normal or conventional that he did outlandishly insane things but never considered the social or emotional toll it took on his family. Like setting a baby bobcat loose in the house to see how the kids would react.

One of her more upsetting stories was when Jenny and her sister were little and money was tight, her dad would announce that they were going to see a movie on Saturday afternoon. This was a huge treat because the family rarely had money to spend on things like movies. The girls would spend all day pouring over the newspaper movie listings, painstakingly deciding what they wanted to see and what time would be best. Then they would discuss what snacks they wanted from the concession stand and where they should sit. They would present Dad with their decision and he would say, "Great! Do you have any money?"

And of course, the girls didn't. So there was no way they could go to the movies. And the girls would be crushed. But Dad would jostle their shoulders as they cried and said, "But wasn't it fun when we THOUGHT we were going to the movies?"

Jenny was quick to add that her dad wasn't a mean person, but I disagree.

BabyMama, no wonder you said in the other thread that you didn't want to see your parents fro Christmas.

Sigh. My personal affront is now making me remember every bad event over my lifetime. There was also the time when she wanted this specific cake made for Christmas, and when it appeared she wasn't going to make it, I did it...and she yelled at me because she had an idea of wanting to frost the cake RIGHT before serving it (whipped cream based) and because I'd frosted the cake early I "ruined Christmas." Yeah...

They usually are okay people. But they really have been getting worse. I dread to think of what my mom will be like when she's elderly.

Have you ever read the Great Santini? Or, well, any book Conroy wrote with parents in it. Something about the way you describe your parents reminds me of Conroy and his parents. He would describe some really messed up story from his childhood. Not CPS messed up, but shake-your-head messed up. Then he'd say, "But, really, they were really OK."

I read Jenny Lawson aka the Bloggess' memoir, "Let's Pretend This Never Happened," (a telling title if there ever was one.) She describes her dad as this total nutball who was so determined NOT to be normal or conventional that he did outlandishly insane things but never considered the social or emotional toll it took on his family. Like setting a baby bobcat loose in the house to see how the kids would react.

One of her more upsetting stories was when Jenny and her sister were little and money was tight, her dad would announce that they were going to see a movie on Saturday afternoon. This was a huge treat because the family rarely had money to spend on things like movies. The girls would spend all day pouring over the newspaper movie listings, painstakingly deciding what they wanted to see and what time would be best. Then they would discuss what snacks they wanted from the concession stand and where they should sit. They would present Dad with their decision and he would say, "Great! Do you have any money?"

And of course, the girls didn't. So there was no way they could go to the movies. And the girls would be crushed. But Dad would jostle their shoulders as they cried and said, "But wasn't it fun when we THOUGHT we were going to the movies?"

Jenny was quick to add that her dad wasn't a mean person, but I disagree.

I love this thread! I have a PA mom and am just now learning how to deal with her and I'm 38.I still haven't found the answer to, "Was I bad mother?" (Well yes and no.) I guess I could ask, "When?"

Mom had a lot of PA tendencies (she LOVED to push my buttons for some strange reason), but if she'd have asked me this, I'd have straight up said "Eh, only during the times when you passively aggressively ask me whether or not you're a bad mother."

Who on earth goes through someone else's cupboards and eats their chocolate without permission? I'd blow a gasket.

Have I got a story!

Two nights before Nephew's (Jim) wedding, his father "Don" and cousin "Ben" had taken him out for a "bachelor night." When they returned to Jim's house, he went to bed and let Don and Ben crash on the couch/futon. When Jim got up the next morning, Don and Ben were already up and gone. He then proceeded to pack up and drive to the wedding location.

In the meantime, Jim's wife "Lisa" had gone out with myself, my sister and a few friends to local college town for pizza and beer. Lisa then went to her mother's house to pick up some of the wedding stuff, then back to Jim's to shower, change and grab the rest of the stuff, including the Jelly Bellys that were to be placed into small bags as wedding favors. She couldn't find them, and as she looked for the missing bags, discovered that several other bags of candies and chocolates were missing as well.

After the wedding, it came out that Don and Ben had decided that Jim and Lisa were too fat to have all that candy around their house and had stolen all of it and either ate it themselves or tossed it in a public dumpster. Lisa confronted both of them and, not only did neither one apologize, they reiterated that Jim and Lisa were fat.